Dust in the Library
by SeleneSoulwar
Summary: The annual cleaning of the library has always gone intrrupted for Zexion. Whether it's the shelves collapsing of his questionable allergy for dust is the source of the problem, Demyx is always sure to offer help. Drabble, Zemyx.


Author's Note: This was originally a flashback in the second chapter of my story 'Unravelled', but it sort of grew too long and the mood contrasted too sharply to the original story's, so I cut it out and continued it as this oneshot/drabble.

It only contains very slight scraps of relation to 'Unravelled', mostly as the little voice in the back of Zexion's head XD

I do love these sorts of interactions between these two ^^ Zexion's polite snarkiness and Demyx's enthusiasm and clumsiness just makes me so happy C:

I hope you like it too~

Disclaimer – I do not owe these characters, just the inspiration for Zexion's little unseen voice. Rest belong to Square Enix.

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"I told you already, I don't require any assistance. I am more then capable of this task on my own, Nine."

The schemer's quiet, slightly clipped tone rang out in the quiet library as he pushed a lengthy volume further down on the shelf, absentmindedly wiping the thin layer of dust from the spine with his long sleeve before turning his head to look back at the fiddling Nocturne with a raised eyebrow.

"…especially not when said assistance _somehow _always tries reforming natural order of the English alphabet or causing the chemistry section's shelves to mysteriously decide to retire early and collapse…"

Chuckling nervously, Demyx shuffled a little, offering the nearest four books to the slate-haired male perched on the ladder with a small smile. "You're never going to let me live that one down, will you?"

"Not anytime this century, I don't intend to." Zexion murmured, accepting the books with a small sigh, carefully descending a step to slide them in their places. The amount of trouble and headache – and much to his dismay, amusement – that event had caused him…especially when the task of digging out Demyx from under the avalanche of dusty, several-thousand page encyclopaedias and medical journals was ungraciously thrust in his hands. "I was the one who had to dig you out, after all…and listen to Vexen's rants on how many volumes were ruined in the fall."

"But I patched up all the ones with torn bindings…" the brunette protested, stepping forwards to lean against the ladder pouting very slightly. "And I did apologize to both you and Vexen…about…fifty three times straight in a row too."

Indeed. How the nocturne managed to speak so fast (even if it _was_ just the same two-syllable phrase repeated over and over again) and still manage to shake the offender's hand and stack the books on their temporary shelves was beyond Zexion.

Hidden female multitasking traits perhaps?

The number itself was definitely not an exaggeration.

"Your efforts were indeed recognized and…appreciated…but it still doesn't change the fact it would be in best interest for both the library and me to perform this task alone." The schemer shut the current title with a loud snap, glancing down at the nocturne with a slightly exasperated face, frown deepening at the other's sigh and weary nod of approval. Why the nocturne would want to spend hours checking the reference numbers of books whose titles he wouldn't understand, let alone the contents puzzled him to no end.

Honestly, how come he could never do his little monthly library clean-up without any interference? Given this was an admittedly much…easier disturbance to deal with then last month's…he was still seething when he found out what Eight and Ten had subjected the poor dictionaries to…

Hopefully the unexpected and fierce swipes they got in the back of the head with said dictionaries taught them to think twice next time – it certainly satisfied the slate-haired male's thirst for revenge (and no doubt the book's too).

"…alright…but…seriously, if you do…just tell, alright?"

"…I'll be sure to." He nodded slightly, further puzzled by the other's sudden smile and small wave as he portalled out of the library.

He shook his head with another small sigh, plucking another misplaced volume off the table, dusting the cover with slow, caring movements before climbing up on the ladder again.

How he wished there was a manual for reading people.

…more specifically, strange, optimistic but surprisingly hardly-readable young water-manipulating Nobodies.

Yeah.

Maybe he would find that in the 'W' section…

Or rather, he mused with a wry hint of a smirk, sliding the volume in its place, the 'D' section…

Unconsciously, his finger slid over the small, barely noticeable seams holding the soft leather together, torn by a sudden fall…and placed together again by careful, patient hands.

After finding himself chuckling when the next book's place was in the 'D' section, Zexion decided to go look more thoroughly in the 'Z' section.

Maybe he'd find a book there on decoding himself…the other's insistent appearances always caused strange, inexplicable moments…

Must be the dust.

He has been in the same space for quite some time now…

Yes, indeed. It must be the dust.

Stepping down from the ladder with a small sense of relief upon finding a suitable explanation and getting rid of all the distractions deterring him from his task all in one go, the Schemer dutifully ignored the voice in the back of his head, dripping with sarcasm, once again dutifully ripping at his carefully constructed thoughts with the brutal truth (_"Pet, that wasn't an alternate way of looking at things, that was complete and utter bullcrap, flavoured with technological terms" _or_ "You know you only got away with that because he kept his eyes on the chords and couldn't see your face, right?_…and others…).

_Sweetheart, you don't have any allergies._

Well, how was he to know? The last official health check conducted was indeed about three months ago-

_You are the head of the health department, along with Vexen._

These things could be developed over long amounts of time, hidden underneath the surface, undetectable…and they were always checking for more serious diseases…

_Zexion, if you were allergic to dust, you would have fucking died years ago by the amount of time you spend in the dusty depths of a library._

It was these times that the Schemer really hated logical reasoning beyond anything else in existence.

Review, please? :D


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